


Jasp's Boombox Collection

by PumpkinSpite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One-Shots, Smut, various - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-17 19:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpite/pseuds/PumpkinSpite
Summary: A collection of my old (and new) one-shots and drabbles, mostly un-beta-ed. Content warnings in the notes above the chapters.





	1. Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> Place a bomb, blow up the place - simple enough of a job. Or that's what Junkrat thought...  
> Prototype one-shot of the concept for a canceled multi-chap story.
> 
> (Originally posted: 2016-07-23; No Major content warnings.)

Junkrat had a complicated relationship with his own face. On some days it was almost like his mug was grinning down from every house corner, electric pole and blackboard, no matter where he went. Sometimes it felt like a taunt, a bitter reminder, that there is no place in the world he'll ever feel completely safe again. On the other side, the posters filled him with a strange kind of pride. Memories of big and bright explosions in many shades and forms flicked in front of his inner eye, which always gave him a weird sense of accomplishment. Because he knew exactly, why this blast's smoke was white and not black, why this bomb was obviously made with a binary explosive or why it's probably a bad idea to use this much gunpowder for a single little popper. It was the only thing he knew he was good at. That's probably why it was oddly exciting for him to work in his line of business. Sure, it wasn't legal, not at all, but at least he can do what he can do best. Besides, what would life be without a little bit of danger, after all?

He pulled down the mug shot of him and his partner from the wall and crumpled it up into a small ball. That way it sure wouldn't do any harm. With a lax motion of his peg leg he kicked the ball away from him and followed the former wanted poster roll for a few inches and than being carried away by the late afternoon breeze, until a deep voice pulled him back into reality.  
„Got them.“  
A mountain of a man dressed in a leather jacket walked up to him. His face was hidden behind a mouthpiece and huge, black shades. In his enormous hands, he held what looked like two collars with tickets hanging on their ends.  
Junkrat showed all of his yellow teeth in a big grin. „Took ya long enough, old lug.“ he said, graped a hold onto one of them and let the plastic-wrapped piece of paper dangle in front of his nose. It looked like a concert ticket alright, like the suit told them.  
Just like his friend, Junkrat put the thing around his neck and started to play with it through his lanky fingers.  
„Ya think they give away free stuff for V.I.P.s, Hog? Oi could use a few drinks or two.“ the blonde said and started to giggle to himself as if he just told an amazing joke.  
It was hard to figure out, what Hog's reaction to Junkrat's question was, but the shrugging shoulders were answer enough for him. Despite his size, Roadhog was never a man of big words, Junkrat figured that out within the first few days they started to work together. Not a problem, he can talk for both of them.

Strangely enough, Fortuna seemed to be on the side of the Australian men this evening. Even though the image of a big, fat man with a cute piggy mouthpiece and a biker outfit, accompanied by a tall, lanky blonde missing two limbs and smelling of soot and dynamite should have set off someone's alarm, they pretty much got invited into the building by a very stressed looking security. They didn't even check their bags. The miracles of document forgery it seems. For their first big job, this sure as hell started out very easy.  
They walked along a corridor, making sure none of the cameras could pick up their visages, as they made their way to the backstage area. In the distance, Junkrat could hear murmurs coming from the front. A few concert goers seemed to have already entered the concert hall as well.  
„Be careful, will you?“ the big man said, when Junkrat walked up to a door and poked his head out. He watched the people walk from the open entries towards the snack shops and into the big hall.  
„Oi! Oi'm always careful!“ the blonde protested, pulled his head back in and looked down the hallway.  
„Awright, big guy. oi go ahead and set up that baby and you watch out for anything fishy, right?“. Hog just nodded and left through the door Junkrat earlier looked through.  
„Bring me a tall one, will ya!“ he yelled after him, before the door fell shut.  
Now for the fun part.

Surprisingly swift, Junkrat made his way down the corridors, passing multiple “Staff only”-doors on his way, while trying to avoid running into people. He tried to limp less than he usually did, which was surprisingly hard with his self-made peg-leg. His height was already a striking characteristic, a goofy walk would make him memorable. No need to look suspicious and all. Finding a good spot to hide the little pipe bomb he build last night with lots of care and love should be easy, the backstage of that bloody place felt like a maze to the disoriented merchenary. He peeked over his shoulder, checking if someone was looking after him. No? No. Good. He took the corner to the right and...  
„AUH!“  
Junkrat hit metal. Something fell onto the ground and made a horrible noise. Junkrat held his belly in pain. He ran into something really hard, so much that it poked him right into the guts.  
„Son of a -!“ he started to swear and looked after what had caused him the pain.  
A wheelchair lay on its side, one wheel still spinning. Next to it was a young man with long, thick dreadlocks trying to get back up from the ground.

Well, that didn't go as planned. Even though Junkrat wasn't too sure of what his exact plan was to begin with. But it sure as hell didn't include running into a disabled person and throwing them out of their wheelchair. Too much attention. Better play the nice guy now!  
„Sorry, mate.“ he said, climbed over the wheelchair and bent over to the person on the floor, “Didn't saw ya there.”  
The guy was surprisingly tiny, especially with his legs missing from his knees downward and especially in comparison to Junkrat. With a quick motion, the guy sat up and started to rub the side he must have fallen onto, when Junkrat kicked him out of his seat. He smiled at the blonde.  
“Naw, it's fine, man.” he said, showing off an accent, that rivaled with Junkrat's in thickness, “Shouldn't have just stopped in the middle of the hall.”  
Junkrat threw a quick look at the wheelchair and placed it back into its originally intended position, wheels on the ground. The guy grinned at him again.  
“Thanks!” he exclaimed and used his arms to slip across the floor towards his seat.  
“Ya need help?” the Australian asked to his own surprise. He didn't need a suspicious witness, so he might as well leave a good impression. Well, as good as it was physically possible for him.  
“Naw, I'm cool.” the guy said and climbed up to get back into his preferred position. Junkrat supported the wheelchair with his hand, so it didn't jitter around that much. He remembered wheelchairs were always an annoyance for him, because they were so wonky and very hard to handle.  
“Awh, man.” the guy said, when he finally sat down. He turned around spinning the wheels and looked up to the blonde, again showing a big smile.  
“That's what you get for leaving your prosthesis at home, huh?” he meant jokingly.  
Junkrat tried not to grimace. Is that guy trying to start a conversation now? He doesn't have time for that. Hog was waiting outside, keeping the way clear for an easy escape. He doesn't have the time to chit-chat with a strange black guy in a wheelchair. “Oi.” he just responded a second later, trying to avoid eye contact. Maybe that would break the guy's spirit.  
“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you a roadie?”  
Guess not.  
“Ah, nope. Oi'm a guest or...somethin'.” the Australian said and showed off his ticket.  
The black guy whistled impressed. “V.I.P., ey? Lucky you. All alone?”.  
The Australian shook his head and tried his best to not grimace. “Me mate is getting' some drinks...”.  
Great. Now he was captured by the social expectation to hold a conversation with someone he almost run over. Because that's what he is here for, casual conversations in strange hallways. Junkrat started to tip around with his peg leg, he became a bit restless. The guy in the wheelchair didn't seem to pick up on it though. He crossed his surprisingly muscular arms and gave the tall blonde one a doubtful look.  
“So instead of going up to the nice boxes with the nice seats and the free drinks, you prefer to sneak around behind stage?”  
Now Junkrat couldn't help but make a face.  
“Duh-uhm, oi'm just not made for all that fancy-pantsy stuff, ya know? Thought oi might just, ya know, take a walk, move those feet a bit...well, that one foot.”  
He pointed downwards and the guy's eyes wandered along his legs to his peg leg. “Oh.” he said with a surprised face and suddenly started to chuckle a bit. It was...weirdly memorizing.  
Junkrat was always the kind of guy pulling a joke or two, but rarely someone but him would laugh it them. The corner of his lips twitched a bit.  
The guy came a little closer and seemed to inspect the peg leg.  
“You made that yourself, bro?” he asked curiously.  
“Oi. All hand-made.” the Australian proclaimed proudly. He knelt down to roll up the shorts covering part of the knee joint. “Took me a few months and a lotta patience!”  
The wheelchair man viewed the prosthesis with big enthusiasm.  
“Man, that's cool..” he said and looked back up into Junkrat's face. “Takes skill to make your own prosthesis. Almost makes me a bit jealous. Than I wouldn't have to pay that much for repair, haha.”  
Again, Junkrat's lips formed a little smile, mimicing the guy's big grin. Suddenly, he held up his hand towards the tall one.  
“Name's Lúcio. And you are?”  
“Oi – eh.” that question came so much out of nowhere, it startled Junkrat. He can't exactly use his alias. Well, there is only one way to go left.  
“Jamison.” he finally said and shook Lúcio's hand a little to manically. “Pleased to meet ya, mate.”  
Lúcio showed another friendly smile. “Same here.”

It was supposed to take only a few minutes. Ten maybe, or fifteen. But now, Junkrat was sitting there on the side of a hallway, talking to a complete stranger in a wheelchair. It felt like they spent almost half an hour just chatting – about prosthesis and how to take care of them or about the building or about their jobs. Of course Junkrat didn't really tell Lúcio he was a professional pyromaniac for hire. He used the more floral term 'demolition man'. He also used it as an excuse to explain the loss of both his arm and leg.  
“That sounds harsh.” Lúcio commented.  
“Ah!” Junkrat made a hand motion as if he wanted to wave away an annoying fly. “Could be worse. What about you, mate?”  
Lúcio tilted his head in confusion. “Me? Uh...well, that's a long story, dude.” the black guy said and threw his dreadlocks behind his back with a swift move of the head. “Let's just say, I had an accident back home in Brazil a few years ago.”  
Junkrat looked at him with a confused face. It took Lúcio a moment to realize, why he was staring.  
“Oh! Oh, you mean my job! Well, I'm a musician. Actually I'm performing here tonight.” , “Really?” the tall one asked with a honest tune of awe in his voice.  
Lúcio nodded, “Yeah, you know...actually I didn't want to. You know, the organizers had to cut the fees for the artists. The rent for this place is just...too much. They kept raising it the most tickets they sold for some reason. Which sucks, because this is a charity event after all.”  
Lúcio leaned onto the wheelchair's armrest and seemed to pout a bit. “First big gig and I virtually work for free. But it's for a good cause, that's all that matters, you know?” The small guy looked up to Junkrat's face.  
“Uh...is something wrong?”  
Junkrat had a realization.  
The job.  
The suit said 'Make it look like an accident. Makes it easier to squeeze the fees out of them.'  
Any living targets?  
'If someone gets hurt, so be it. We'll pin it onto those idiots somehow.'  
He looked down at the floor. He was confused. Suddenly, the idea of setting off a bomb in this place seemed...wrong? He never felt this way before. He never thought an explosion could be misplaced somehow. But now...he just spent well over thirty minutes talking with that little guy. This surprisingly open and sweet person. He laughed at his jokes, he talked with him about music and his peg leg. He was here to do good. He didn't need to be here. He shouldn't be here, when the bomb goes off.

“He!”  
A familiar voice echoed down the hallway and an equally familiar mouth showed up at the corner. Oh shit. They are behind their schedule.  
“Ah, oi, t-there is my mate!” Junkrat said and got back up on his legs. “Oi better should get goin' and all.” he meant and brushed off some dirt from his shorts.  
“Ah, sorry for holding you back, buddy!” Lúcio said. “But I should get in motion, too. Have fun at the show, Jamie, yeah?”  
This sounded more like a request than an actual statement.  
Junkrat just nodded, took his bag and waved at Lúcio. “Yeah, yeah, sure! No worries! See ya!” he stumbled with a hint of panic in his voice and almost jumped over to Roadhog, who then walked ahead to lead the way back through the hallway. With one last look over his shoulder, Junkrat watched Lùcio making his way along the corridor towards the stage.

“Did you hide it well?” the big guy asked. Junkrat made a face again.  
“Naw. Couldn't. Don't think this job is worth it getting' caught, mate.”  
Roadhog stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned around. “All the sudden?”  
Junkrat pressed his one fist against his side. “Oi changed me mind, okay? But...oi do have a better idea...listen...”

 

There were still sparks raising up into the night sky, as Junkrat and Roadhog sat on top of the concert hall, each of them with a drink in their hand, watching the flames raise from that skyscraper in the distance. Again, the fuzzy feeling of pride spread through Junkrat's body. He showed off a goofy grin.  
“Too bad we couldn't stay up close, ey?” Junkrat said. “Would have loved to see that bloak's face, watchin' how his precious little company just goes down in flames, heheheh!”  
He laughed manically and took a celebratory gulp through the straw.  
Hog turned his head towards his partner. “It was that kid you talked to, hm? He changed your mind?”  
Junkrat looked up to his friend while chewing on his boba.  
“Wha- no! Oi just...realized, that it would be a dick move to blow up a charity concert, so that some suit can buy his third helicopter or somethin'.”  
The big man gently shook his head, taking a gulp from his drink himself.  
Junkrat watched over the skyline, smoke and sparks partly covering the view, while underneath them, inside the hall, people were dancing and celebrating life to Lúcio's music.  
“Dude's music is not bad, ey, Hog?” Junkrat asked and just like earlier, the man just responded with a shrug.  
A firetruck drove by and towards the former explosion. Junkrat took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Quietly, his ears, though damaged through many explosions, were able to pick up the sounds from inside the hall. He saw Lúcio's face in front of him, saw how he was smiling at the audience, joyful and without a care in the world. And for a moment, he was jealous.  
“Been a while somebody called me Jamie.” he mumbled, barely noticeable.  
Under his mouthpiece, Roadhog started to smile.


	2. Prize (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio doesn't remember when he realized he had a crush on Junkrat.  
> [...]  
> He just couldn't remember. But the realization hit him pretty hard.
> 
> (Originally posted: 2016-08-16; Major content warnings: Sexual content)

Lúcio doesn't remember when he realized he had a crush on Junkrat.

Maybe it was the moment, when he started to get excited every time they were on a mission together.  
Maybe it was that time, when he called him “frogboy” for the first time, causing his cheeks to hurt from the wide grin and hot blush across his face.  
Or maybe it was that day Hana poked him into the side after a mission and asked why he kept staring after that crazy pyromaniac with red ears.

He grew very attached to Junkrat in a very short amount of time.  
A lot of people didn't like the Junkers. They just saw them as rude and crude hired guns with a criminal record spanning all over the world. Not trustworthy at all.  
Lúcio didn't agree. He didn't had a clean slate himself after all.  
Admittedly, Junkrat was a ruthless guy. He always ran ahead of the team, right into the action. At first, Lúcio was annoyed by having to skate so far away from the rest of the group to pick him up. But after a while, he realized that the Junker was able to take care of himself. Most of the time.  
Lúcio was surprised the first time he saw him flying through the air like only Pharah usually could. He used his mines to sent himself through the air and get to places he might not reach in time with his peg leg.  
That's so stupid and dangerous and surprisingly genius.

Outside of missions, he liked to sit with him and talk. They were around the same age, yet their topics couldn't be more different.  
Lúcio always talked about his home, his family, his music, his tour shenanigans.  
Junkrat talked about the Outback, bombs, chemicals and his past antics with Roadhog.  
It was intriguing to watch how he just started to bloom while talking.  
How his manic grin made room for a genuine smile and his amber eyes lit up in excitement, the hands moving restlessly to accompany his stories, his voice changing rapidly in pitch and speed like a song.

He just couldn't remember. But the realization hit him pretty hard.

 

“Oi, frogboy.”  
Lúcio was ripped out of his thoughts by the tall one's voice.  
They were sitting in Lúcio's room, up in the dorms. Usually Junkrat slept in the quarters in the basement, he was sharing a room with Hog down there.  
He was surprised Junkrat actually accepted his invitation, seeing that he was almost glued to his bodyguard outside of the living areas or to his work stop inside the basement.  
It was weird to just sit around with him, watching movies.  
It was almost like they were normal people.  
Almost.

“What is it?” Lúcio asked the junker, who occupied almost two-thirds of Lúcio's bed. The DJ himself was leaning against the wall next to it, hugging one of his goofy, frog-faced pillows.  
Junkrat just looked at him, ignoring the big computer screen Lúcio was playing that movie on.  
Suddenly he slowly dropped into the bed's sheets, his arms – well, his one arm and his prosthesis – stretched out as if he tried to reach the ceiling fan.  
“I'm bored!”  
Lúcio chuckled quietly. “Not interested in the fate of that poor little white girl?”  
“Nah. That sheila is a bitch anyway.”  
“I agree.”  
Junkrat rolled onto his belly, holding his head up with his hands, leaning onto his elbows. He continued to eye the musician, as if he was expecting him to tell him a story.  
Lúcio gave him a confused look. “What are you doing there?”  
“Bein' bored?”  
Again, the musician let out a small chuckle. “Sorry to hear that.”  
“Ey, ain't your fault, mate. Or did you make that flick?”  
Lúcio huffed. “Oh, JR.”  
The Junker replied with his usual high pitched laughter, like he always did when Lúcio used that nickname he gave him. He reached out his right arm and poked with his steel finger against Lúcio's own metallic prosthesis. “I might know a distraction.”  
Lúcio raised an eyebrow at the tall blonde. “What?”

It happened so sudden. Like an explosion.  
Junkrat just made a leap, grabbed Lúcio's pillow and slammed it back onto him.  
After the first shock wore off, Lúcio gave the junker, who was holding his belly of laughter, a short angry glance, than regained his pillow back to slam it onto Junkrat's head.  
“Oi!” the tall one yelled.  
“You had it coming!” the musician replied with a sly grin.

After that, a war ensued.  
Junkrat grabbed another pillow he threw onto the ground earlier and Lúcio took cover under his blanket from Junkrat's attacks. Sometimes he poked out of the blanket to give a swing, but but the Australian was just too fast for him. One of the pillows, they couldn't tell which one, even lost some feathers. Probably Junkrat's, because he landed the most hits.  
Under loud laughter, Lúcio finally dug himself up from under his blanket and held his arms up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you won!”  
“Yes!” the Junker yelled triumphantly, pumping his fists into the air with his weapon of choice still in his grasp.

It was at this moment, that both of them realized, that Junkrat was sitting on Lúcio's lap.

Immediately he felt his ears heating up again and his heart beating against his rip cage.  
Awkward.  
Even Junkrat seemed to be a little flustered. He carefully lay down the pillow, almost in slow motion, as if his brain slowly had to register the situation they were in.  
“Uh...sorry, mate.” he muttered and his eyes started to wandered around aimlessly. There was rarely a moment where his eyes were focused, to be fair, but right now, it was even more noticeable.  
Lúcio let out an embarrassed giggle. “It's...it's fine, man. Like...no big deal.”  
No, actually, it was a big deal.  
He was suddenly so close. He has never been this close to his face.  
Did he always had those tiny moles all over his face? He never noticed them before.  
Wait.  
Did Junkrat shower?  
He did smell less of sweat and soot and his hair was less grimy, too.  
Lúcio felt the heat spreading all over his face again.  
No. Not just his face.

“What did I win anyway?” the junker suddenly asked and crossed his arms, which looked weirdly uncomfortable due to the bulky form of his prosthesis.  
“Uh...” Lúcio's mind drew a blank. Did he really expect a prize or was that just a trick question?  
“I don't know, man. What do you want?”  
The blonde actually seemed to think about that for a while. His hand rested onto his chin and his eyes started to wander again.  
Slowly, his familiar cocky smile started to grow on his face. “Oh...I know exactly what I want, mate.”  
“And that would be?”  
The Junker started to giggle a little manically. Suddenly he dropped down, his hands pressing next to each of Lúcio's ears into the mattress.

“A kiss.”

Now it was impossible to hide his blush.  
Lúcio jerked up a little up, leaning on his elbows.  
“Are-are you serious, man?” he stuttered, looking up at the blonde guy looming over him.  
“Ya know, for once, I am.”  
He wasn't joking. His expression seemed stiff and oddly restrained, even though he was smiling.  
Lúcio bit down on his lip and nervously scratched his cheek.  
“If...If you wanna. I mean, I wouldn't - ”

He couldn't finish the sentence. A pair of lips stopped him from doing so.

Junkrat was so hasty to get his prize, it threw Lúcio for a loop.  
His lips were so wet and clumsy and so soft.

After the first shock wore off, Lúcio started to move his shaking arms. Slowly but steady they wrapped themselves around Junkrat's chest, pressing him closer to the small man underneath him. Again he felt heat rushing through his body. It made Lúcio shiver.

A quiet gasp escaped from Lúcio's mouth when their lips parted. He watched how the Junker kept looming over him, pinning him down with his amber eyes. His face made a grimace and matched Lúcio's in redness. With his pale skin, it was not as easy to hide as with Lúcio's.  
Nervously Junkrat shifted around on Lúcio, seemingly to get off him.  
“S-Sorry.” he muttered, his eyes drifting off to the side.  
“Why?”  
Lúcio wasn't sure why this one word came out of his mouth so fast, but it was good to see, that he wasn't the only one caught off guard by it.  
Junkrat sat up, his long arms dangling a little like the limbs of a puppet.  
“I guess...I kinda forced meself onto ya, mate. Is all.”  
Lúcio didn't know how to reply that that statement.  
Well, yes, he kind of did.  
But he didn't mind?  
Gradually Lúcio lifted himself up again by leaning on his elbows. His tried to look into Junkrat's eyes, but the tall one was still scanning the room, as if he was looking for something in panic.  
The DJ swallowed his spit.  
“It's fine, Junkrat. No need to make fuss about it.”  
The Junker's eyes finally came to a stop, locking onto Lúcio's face.  
“It's fine?” he repeated, as if Lúcio just told him that the sky was green.  
The smaller man nodded carefully and added an assuring smile to it.

Almost a minute went by of them just staring at each other. It felt a lot longer to Lúcio though.  
He started to feel his cheeks cooling off a little, but it seemed that Junkrat wasn't as lucky.  
His small ears were very pink and his mole-covered face was slowly catching up to them in color.  
Finally Lúcio broke the silence with a chuckle.  
“Are you happy with your reward?”  
The blonde guy snorted quietly and the corners of his lips twitched a little.  
Those thin, soft lips...  
“I wouldn't mind gettin' another one.” he admitted, looking off to the side again. He was eying the pillow.  
They both started to laugh quietly. They had to laugh, otherwise the awkwardness of the whole situation would have gotten to them.  
“You don't have to hit me with a pillow again for that, though, okay?” Lúcio said, slowly sliding closer towards the Junker again. Carefully Junkrat lifted his limb arms to close them around Lúcio behind his back. He was resting his head against his forehead.  
“We are kinda gay, aren't we?” the Blonde asked, his voice changing its pitch while giggling.  
“You don't say.” Lúcio replied, his eyebrows frowning playfully.  
“Hey, don't gimme that look.” the Junker said and poked the DJ with his good hand into his cheek.  
“I can do whatever I want, Mr. Rat.” Lúcio protested and mirrored his motions by poking the tall guy's cheek, too.  
“Jamison.”  
“Huh?”  
“That's me name.” the Junker said. “Jamison Fawkes.”  
Lúcio looked into his face in awe.  
He was pretty sure no one ever called him by his real name. He wasn't even sure if he said it when introducing himself.  
Knowing his name felt intimate.  
“That's...a pretty name.”  
“Not as pretty as the mouthful that is Lúcio Correia dos Santos.” Jamison replied, making an ostentatious hand motion, as if he was praising a good wine.  
Before Lúcio could protest, the Junker placed his mouth back against his.

Step by step, the kisses became more brave. More adventurous.  
Surprisingly, it was Lúcio who took the first chance to play with his tongue against Junkrat's lips.  
He didn't expect him to be this...shy? Was that a fitting word?  
He had slowly pulled him down with him, making him lay on top of him again. He thought he would be heavier, because of his size.  
The DJ's hand wandered over Jamison's cheek, down to his neck, caressing his skin with his fingertips. The Blonde winced under his gentle touches. Following the trail of his fingers, Lúcio started to place kisses along Jamison's neckline.  
“Ah, fuck.” he started to swear. He almost clung himself onto Lúcio, who kept nibbling along his neck. He could feel his breath against his own neck, hear his voice rattle next to his ear.  
“Merda...” Lúcio whispered. He started to feel his erection span against his boxers.

Suddenly, everything moved a lot faster.  
The fabrics they previously clung into got removed, the DJ's oversized hockey jersey landed on the ground, next to the Junker's almost tacky smiley t-shirt.  
It wasn't the first time Lúcio saw Junkrat's bare chest, of course, but right now, the sight made him even more excited than he already was.  
He didn't know, how he ended up next to him, his metal hand resting on the back of his head, running through his thick dreads, the flesh hand clinging into his shoulder, while Lúcio continued to kiss across his skin, slowly down his flat chest towards his hips.  
The Junker started to stammer. “H-he...”  
He looked up, when he heard his name. A hint of worry passed his face.  
“Am I going too fast?” he asked, raising his hand to cup Jamison's cheek in it. That very small cheek with a lot of cheekbone.  
“No. No, that's...not it.” the Blonde answered. Again, his eyes became restless.  
“I'm just not...used t' that kind of stuff, ya know?”  
His head moved away, as if he wished he could escape that conversation.  
Lúcio carefully pulled his face back with the hand resting on Jamison's cheek.  
“It's okay.” he said and smiled at him. “I'm not...exactly sure what I'm doing, too.”  
That was a beautiful lie, though. Lúcio knew exactly what was happening.  
It wouldn't be the first time he'd have sex with a guy, but it sure as hell was the first time with a crush.  
A crush who seemed to be very new to the idea of having sex.

“Just lay down.” Lúcio mumbled, forcing the Junker to lay down flat on the mattress by pressing his hand against his shoulder.  
Jamison gave the DJ a cocky smile, that was sadly unable to hide his nervous tension. “Whatever ya say, love.”  
Lúcio huffed amused.  
He already started using pet names. Cute.  
The small man slid downward and sat down between the tall one's legs. He went back to kissing along his abs, watching Jamison's face after every move he made.  
The Junker's face was red like fire and his was biting down his lip. Not knowing what to do with his hands, they kept switching around all over the place. Sometimes they grabbed the bed sheets underneath them, sometimes they caressed Lúcio's back of the head and sometimes they rested over his eyes and forehead, trying to hide his blush and cover his quiet moans. He seemed to be embarrassed by his excitement.  
It was too precious.

“Jamie?”  
The Junker twitched, his face hidden under his arms.  
“I have condoms in my drawer.” Lúcio mumbled and started to fiddle around the seams of Junkrat's sweatpants.  
Slowly 'Jamie' looked down at Lúcio, showing off his crimson cheeks. “Ah, yeah, sure.” he mumbled, gaining back his grasp on reality and leaned over to Lúcio's nightstand. While his metallic hand blindly roamed through the drawer, Junkrat kept his eyes onto Lúcio, who slowly pulled down the sweatpants.  
He didn't expect him to already be this hard. There was even a little pre-cum already glistening on top of Jamison's penis.  
“What...?” he asked,when he handed Lúcio the little package.  
“Is it that nice?” Lúcio replied and unwrapped the condom.  
Jamison gave him a revolting expression.  
“Yes?! Of course it's nice, ya dick!” he exclaimed, sitting up a little to gently pull on one of Lúcio's dreads. “Fuck. Do ya have any idea how long I...”  
“How long what?” the DJ pressed on and carefully started to put the condom on Jamison.  
The Blonde lay back down and hid his face behind his prosthesis again.  
“How long you have been wanting to do that?” Lúcio guessed playfully and started to massage the base of his partner's penis.  
The Junker winched again, letting out a quiet moan. His left leg started to shiver.  
“F-fuck you.” was the only answer the DJ got from him.  
He couldn't see it, but Lúcio gave the Junker a surprised glance.  
He didn't expect his guess to be right.

With gentle stokes, Lúcio continued to massage along Jamison's penis, slowly from the base up to the tip and back.  
The leg started to shiver even more and the moans from behind Jamison's arms became less muffled.  
He tried to get a peek at the Junker's face, but his arms stayed where they were.  
It took a small kiss on the glans to make Junkrat twitch so much his arms moved away.  
His strawy hair contrasted beautifully with his red face and Lúcio could see tooth marks on his lips. His wide eyes fixated the DJ with a mixture of shock and annoyance in them.  
“Fuckin' hell, frogboy.” he grunted, his metallic hand dropping onto the mattress, the other running over his forehead. “Just...do it already...”  
“Do what?” Lúcio asked, going back to the slow stroking.  
He wasn't sure why, but having Junkrat – Jamie, at his mercy like that was incredibly satisfying. Usually he was the loud, reckless type, swearing around like a sailor during missions and doing things his way or the hard way.  
Well, the swearing part was still present, to be fair.  
Jamison squinted his eyes at the DJ. “Ya know what I mean, mate.”  
“I know, but I wanna hear it out of your mouth.”  
Lúcio sat up and climbed over the Blonde. Now he was the one looming over the other.  
Jamie continued to hold up the annoyed facade, but his jittery eyes and the blush told Lúcio that he was anything but calm.  
“Jamie.” he said and he could tell from Jamison's face, that the sound of that name sent a jolt down his spine.  
“What?” he replied, his flesh hand wandering up to stroke Lúcio's arm. The metal arm stayed on the sheets.  
“Do what?” Lúcio repeated and placed his hand over the Junker's, carefully grasping it and pulling it up to place a kiss on the wrist.  
The hand was shaking. So was his leg.  
He was so twitchy and restless and cute. Lúcio couldn't help but smile.  
After seconds of staring, twitching limbs and biting down on his lips, the Junker seemed to have found the right words and glared up to the DJ.

“Fuck me.” finally escaped from his lips. His voice was surprisingly quiet and calm.  
Lúcio bent his head down and placed a passionate kiss on Jamison's lips.  
“Okay.” he whispered against the Junker's chin and slid down again, back between his legs.

Even though he knew what was coming, feeling Lúcio's lips around his cock must have caught Jamison off guard.  
His prosthesis held forcefully onto the bed sheet and his hips began to move in time with the DJ's head. The other hand continued to be restless, sometimes stroking through his dreads, sometimes clinging onto them, sometimes trailing back up to cover his own mouth.  
His chest was starting to visibly raise and fall under his audible breaths.  
And the things he said.  
“Ah, w-what are ya doin'? Ah, fuck. You fuckin' – ah.”  
He tried to desperately form words, tried to swear to let out his agony. But he couldn't. His moans grew louder and longer the more Lúcio moved his head, his one hand continued to knead the Junker's lap, the other grasped after his own glans.  
Sometimes Lúcio had to take a break, throw his loose dread back over his shoulders or just let out a small moan himself, which caused Junkrat to gripe silently.  
“Come on.” he mumbled under his panting, “I'm...almost there.”  
Lúcio huffed amused while gasping for air. “Give me a moment.” he sighed and went back to sucking.  
The Junker inhaled sharply through his uneven teeth and arched his hip again. His foot started to tap even more, accompanying the whimpers coming from his throat.  
Lúcio's moans grew louder, too. He continued to stroke himself, listening to Jamison's attempts of telling him how much of an asshole he was for putting him into this situation.  
Such beautiful agony.  
He felt his lap muscles tense up and gasped quietly against Jamison's thigh. He was almost tempted to bite him, but his orgasm happened so sudden, he didn't have the time to decided if he should.

“L-Lúcio?” Jamison asked, his voice drowned in arousal.  
The DJ tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat run down his forehead and over his hot cheeks.  
“I'm...I'm good.” he muttered, wiping his hand clean from his cum before going back to licking along Jamison's erection.  
The Junker started to stroke through Lúcio's dreads again, this time using both of his hands. He didn't even try to hold back his gasps anymore, throwing his head back into the pillow the more Lúcio pleasured him.  
He pulled his leg closer to his body, his foot still tapping in excitement. His hip arched one last time against Lúcio's mouth before he let go one last, long groan. His hands cling into Lúcio's dread, pressing him onto his tense lap. Thank God he wore a condom or Lúcio would have probably chocked from all that cum.

There he was, laying flat on his back, his chest moving up and down from deep gasps of air.  
His eyes were closed and his forehead was sweaty. His lips was bitten bloody and Lúcio realized he gave him a hickey on the neck earlier.  
Slowly he let go of the DJ's hair and spread his arms out.  
Lúcio sat up and steadily moved up to lay down next to him. He was still feeling shaky from his own orgasm and Jamie's sudden pulling on his hair.  
He felt tired, yet strangely accomplished.  
He wiped the blood from Jamison's lips with his thumb and gave him a gentle kiss. He still had the taste of the latex in his mouth, which mixed with the iron of the left-over blood. In every other situation, this would have been an unpleasant kiss.  
But right now, it was surprisingly hot.

The Junker opened his eyes, still huffing through his nose.  
A smile started to grow on his face and he started to chuckle a little.  
“What are you lookin' at?” he asked and Lúcio replied with a chuckle himself.  
“Oh, I don't know.” he replied, leaning on his elbow, while the other hand gently tickled over the pale chest of his partner. “At the guy, who's cherry I just popped?”  
The Junker snorted and turned his head to face Lúcio. “Aren't ya fuckin' proud?”  
“Maybe I am.” the DJ said and placed his hand flat onto Jamison's chest. He could feel his heart still beating rapidly.  
Jamison just smiled at him. It was that genuine smile, that boyish smile that Lúcio loved so much seeing on him.  
Carefully his hand wandered up again to cup Jamie's cheek and the Blonde leaned into it like a cat into a stroke.  
“I can't believe this really happened.” he muttered, while he reached his arms around the DJ and pulled himself closer to him.  
Lúcio huffed and placed his head under Jamison's chin. “Same.”  
“Does...does this count as a one-night-stand?”  
The DJ looked up and felt the Blonde's hand nervously stroke over his back.

“Not when you became my boy-friend.”  
Jamison looked down until his eyes met Lúcio.  
“Wait...ya serious?”  
“For once, I am.”

Again the Junker snorted. He nuzzled his nose into Lúcio's dreads and sighed quietly.  
“Sure. Why not?” he said and pulling the DJ closer into the hug.  
Lúcio grinned against his shoulder, peeking over it towards the other side of the room.  
“The chick just died.”  
“Called it.”

-

“What is that?” Roadhog asked and pointed vaguely in the direction of Junkrat's neck.  
“What? That?” the Junker asked and brushed with his hand over the red mark on his neck line. His bodyguard nodded.  
“Ah.” he shrugged. “Let's say I got bitten by a frog there.”

Thankfully no one but Hana could see Lúcio's blush.  
“I knew it.” she exclaimed through the intercom into Lúcio's ear.  
“Shut up.”


	3. Drabble: Video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A giveaway reward from my RP blog ~ I'm not completly happy with it but I still hope it's an enjoyable read!
> 
> (Originally posted: 2016-10-01; Major content warnings: Death mention, Character death)

He knew one of them would probably die on the field one day. But he didn't expected it to happen this early.  
Junkrat was the more ruthless of the two. After all, he used mines to get to high places and preferred a big boom over strategic safety.  
Not like Lúcio. Lúcio was careful. He had to be. As a medic his job was it to keep people alive by staying alive.  
Maybe, if he wouldn't have been that careful, it would have hit him instead of Jamie.

The funeral was only a few days ago, and he was still busy going through Junkrat's belongings. Not because they were of high number, but because it was hard to look at those objects. Lúcio didn't saw used tools and dirty pillows and a tacky, bomb-shaped plush toy, he saw Jamie's favorite screwdriver to fixate wires in his mines with, he saw the pillow Jamie gave him the first time he slept with him in one bed and he saw the prize he won for him that one time they went to a fair last April. Memories, that just threw themselves into his face without mercy and placed weight after weight onto his heart.  
But today was different. Today he found something new.  
The DJ was confused, when he found what looked like an USB-stick between the few books the Junker kept in his room. It looked new, barely used. Lúcio wasn't sure why Jamie would have something like this in his room. He didn't even have a laptop. Had.  
Only one way to find out.

The DJ locked himself into his room this evening, like he did for the past few weeks since the Junker's passing. He crawled up onto his bed and pulled up his laptop, placing the stick into the fitting slot.  
There were no folders on the device, only one file, simply called “video”.  
Lúcio tilted his head in confusion and clicked the file to open it.

The video player popped up and showed – Jamie, adjusting the camera this video was filmed with, as it seemed.  
Lúcio forced himself to smile, even though the tears were ready to fall again. It felt so good to see him, just as much as it poured salt into still healing wounds.  
The Junker stuck out his tongue, until he was finally happy with how the camera was positioned. He made a few steps back in a hunched pose. He filmed it into his room, the camera placed onto his work bench as it seems. He sat down on the little stool behind him and let out a long sigh.  
“Oi.” he muttered, raising his prosthetic arm. The DJ almost greeted back.  
“Looks like ya found that thing, huh?” the Junker crossed his arms and chuckled amused. “Should have hid it better. Wanted it ta be a surprise and all.” Another chuckle and the Blonde looked onto the floor, his good hand running through his dirty hair. He always did that when he was trying to find the right words. Lúcio pressed his lips against each other, trying not to tear up too much.  
“Anyway.” he looked up again, his amber eyes fixating the camera and with that, the viewer.  
“Lúcio.”  
Hearing his name sent goosebumps down the DJ's spine. This was really meant for him?  
“I'm not sure if I will ever get a chance to...actually say that ta ya face. Ya know? That deal with Overwatch and all? Just temporarily. Hog and me didn't plan on stayin' that long. We're used ta be on the run after all. But...”  
A blush appeared on the Junker's face. It was hard to make out through the soot, but Lúcio learned to see it. Adorable.  
“I gotta admit, I...like bein' around ya and all? Ya smart, wordy, charmin'...everythin' I'm not and it makes me...a bit jealous. I wished I was more like ya. Or...more around ya.”  
Lúcio had to swallow. Was this from before they started to date?  
“If ya found this, that might mean I headed for the hills with Hog or whatever.” the Junker finally continued, “But I wanted ya to know that...I'm...glad I met you.”  
His voice became oddly soft for a moment there.  
“I don't know why I deserve your trust, but...ya gave it to me, and it means a lot to me.”  
“You dumb rat.” escaped from Lúcio's mouth and eventually, he wasn't able to hold back the tears anymore. “Of course you deserved it.”  
“Ya know.” the Junker continued and chuckled again. “We should do more things together. Just the both of us. I would love ta do that.”  
The DJ wiped one of his eyes and nodded, as if agreeing with the digital recording of his boy-friend.  
“Maybe we could even, like – ya know, go eat somethin' or just...”, a sudden noise behind the Junker, probably a door being opened, made him jump for the camera. He grabbed it and walked towards the wall, holding the camera close to his face, as if caught telling a secret. “Okay, look, I really dig ya and I wanna go on a date with ya is what I'm sayin'. Please don't think this is weird.” he stuttered before placing his hand over the lens, ending the video.

Lúcio sat on his bed, hands trembling in his lap.  
His head was shaking gently, tears slowly making their way to his chin.  
He was smiling.  
This is so Jamie.  
“Sure. Why not?”


	4. Drabble: Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble to have an excuse to write about Junkrat in a suit. That is all.  
> Based of a scenario I found on tumblr: http://lesbianlucio.tumblr.com/post/149087464785/do-you-have-any-boombox-hcs
> 
> (Originally posted: 2016-08-17; No Major content warning)

„Come on, JR. It's been half an hour.“  
Lúcio knocked against the bathroom door for the third time. He leaned against the wall next to it, tapping his shiny shoes and flicking fluffs off his blazer.  
He looked at the clock down the hallway. If they get going in ten minutes, they could still make it in time. His agent would kill him otherwise.  
But than again she already did put curses on Lúcio for asking her if he could bring his boy-friend.

Finally the door swung open.  
Junkrat was changed beyond recognition. His sparse blonde hair strands were actually clean for once, but even though they were combed and groomed, they were still pointing into all directions. His grungy attire made room for a neat suit. Almost too neat for his taste it seemed, so he felt the need to spice it up with a bright orange tie, on which he pinned some of his old buttons. His peg leg poked out of the pants, polished to fit the equally clean black leather shoe on the other side and even his arm was free from oil and rust. He even shaved and managed to not cut himself doing so.  
The junker kept fingering around his neck.  
The tight collar Lúcio put him in seemed to annoy him.

“Sorry, mate.” he grumbled, trying to open up a button on the shirt. “That thing keeps bein' a bitch.”  
Lúcio shook his head gently, smiled and walked up to his partner. He undid the first two buttons on the collar and loosened the tie.  
“A button makes you lock yourself in the bathroom for 30 minutes?” he asked with a chuckle in his throat.  
The Junker looked to the side. “That. And a very long nervous piss.”  
“Why are you nervous?” Lúcio asked, cleaning off dust from Junkrat's shoulder pads.  
“Ya seriously askin' me this, mate?” the Junker replied and crossed his arms, putting the fabric of the suit into stress.  
“Oh, Jamie!” he started to imitate Lúcio's voice as good as he could with his thick accent, “Don't worry, this isn't a big event, babe! Only a small party, nuffin' to worry about – Balls!”  
He went back to giving the smaller guy the stink eyes, like he did when he handed him the suit.  
The DJ just shrugged.  
“You should be lucky, I can just take you to that thing.” he argued back. “After all, if you were not with Overwatch, you'd probably be already in jail.”  
“That pissbaby of an agent hit up the cops, huh?”  
Again a shrug. “She was worried our relationship might put me into a bad light in the papers.”  
The Junker made an ugly snort. “As if they don't write up fairytales already.”  
They both started to chuckle a little, before the DJ took the Junker's good hand into his own.  
“Shall we?”  
Junkrat huffed quietly, made a small step to the side and offered Lúcio his arm.  
“I take that as a yes.” the DJ replied with a smile, hooked himself in and like that, they walked down the hallway.

At first Lúcio was worried about attending that event.  
Not because he was scared of what the public would think of his partner. Against the advice of his agent, Lúcio has always been open about his sexuality and his past relationships with men, nor was he ever shy to chat about his new occupation as a member of Overwatch when he was asked about it.  
No, he was worried about going alone.  
He rarely visited those celebrations to begin with. He wasn't one to stand in a spot light for long, all eyes and cameras gawking at him.  
And what was it good for? A few photos for a gossip rag that brighten up his skin, snippets of an interview pulled out of context and people still wondering if he was just a closeted gay and won't admit it.  
To them, he was an object first and a person second.  
It just didn't fit into his ideals.  
Knowing he wasn't alone and that he wasn't the only one hating every minute of it actually helped more than he thought it would.  
It was much more fun than he expected it to be.  
And Jamie didn't even bring his bombs.


	5. Drabble: Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based of the leaked Halloween comic, obviously ~ Super short, but I had fun with that idea!
> 
> (Originally posted: 2016-10-09; No Major content warning)

He didn't need to knock. The door to Jamison's lab was always open.  
The room was filled with the stench of spilled chemicals, burned wires and rotten flesh.  
Every time Lúcio stepped into it, it made him sick. Today though, he was sick the moment he decided to visit his old colleague.

Of course he was sitting in front of the ledge again. That giant electric contraption looked unstable and ready to drop onto that big, human-like shape under the long, white blanket covering it. It was the cause of that smell.  
Jamison's head twitched for a moment, when he heard Lúcio's footsteps. Was his hair always that white? He changed so much the past year, looked so much older now. Not like the ambitious inventor he met in university, always a joke on his lips, always a new idea in his mind, always trying to improve, always working hard.

“What do ya want?” he asked. His voice was raspy and dry like sand.  
“You met the Lord again, I heard.” Lúcio replied, fiddling around the seams of his green dress coat. “Did he give you another - “  
“That's not why you are here.” the doctor threw in and looked over the shoulder.  
Lúcio held a briefcase in his small hands. “Ya leavin'.”  
The black man nodded slowly. “I told you, my mother needs me.”  
“Sure, whatever.” the doctor muttered and turned around again, going back to whatever he was doing, hunching over the table.  
Lúcio couldn't help but groan. The frustration of the past few months – no, years – started to topple over. “What a touching farewell. Really. Why did I even bother showing up, if all you care about is that...that corpse over there?”  
“He won't stay a corpse fo' long, mate.”  
“You have been saying that for months now. And look where that got you! Everyone in the village thinks you are crazy, because you cling to every little straw of acknowledgment instead of actually using your talent to help people! But no! Doctor Junkenstein has to prove how much of a great scientist he is by making a freakin' human out of dead people!”

The doctor pushed his fist onto the dirty table. The noise startled Lúcio enough to make him stop yelling.  
His shoulders were shaking as he turned back to face Lúcio. The glass of his goggles became milky.

"Ya don't get it." he muttered to Lúcio, who kept a safe distance from him, eying down on the dirty sparse hair.  
"All I want is to be someone. Not to be alone anymore."  
The Brazilian huffed. It sounded like a weird mixture of amusement and hurt.

"I was always there. You just never looked at me."

His footsteps echoed through the lab, as Lúcio stormed out of the door.  
It was the last time he ever spoke to Jamison.


	6. Boombox Week 1: Poster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 12th Feb – The First Time! If it's the first kiss, the first date or just the first time they met, this is the day of the firsts! (Idea taken from @mchanzo-week)
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-11; No Major content warnings.)

The first time Junkrat saw his face was on a poster. 

This thing with Overwatch is probably the most honest kind of work Junkrat ever had. And he didn't even completely hate it. For once he was paid to do what he can do best – blow shit to Kingdom Come. Paid in goods like food, water and shelter, sure, but who needs money? He doesn't, he has enough money hidden somewhere.

The poster was hanging on a billboard, somewhere next to an underground station in London, when he and Roadhog met up with that Tracer chick for the first time before they were official members. 

It was Hog who pointed it out to him, grunting something about “that famous DJ”.  
The poster sure knew how to grab Jamie's attention.  
Green and yellow lights contrasting to a dark, faceless background crowd, emphasizing the stance of a man's silhouette behind an impractically giant mixing table. A stylized frog symbol and the name “LÚCIO” towered the motive. The man, probably the advertised Lúcio, looked over his shoulder, eyes edited to shine green towards the viewer, with his long dreads swinging through the air and his face showing one of the most shit-eating grins Junkrat has ever seen.

Junkrat heard of that musician before. News and gossip made its rounds, even in the Outback and radios were the most common method to get your information from the coast.

Lúcio was a star on the other side of the earth. A musician who used his fame to spread awareness of the mistreatment of his people, who stole technology to use it against a corrupt business, who made music and danced and kicked some major ass on the way. Honestly the type of guy Junkrat could appreciate.

In a sense, Junkrat saw something of himself in that guy: A kid that grew up in a society too busy with being dicks and stroking said ones to look after the small people. But while he decided to use bombs and scraps, Lúcio went for music and rebellion.  
Junkrat admired that. To a certain degree. Yeah, he still had a weak spot for those Omnic bastards, but who cares. Boy has the right idea.  
He did start to listen to his music, once or twice. It was decent. It did capture something he enjoyed, an ideology he could get behind.  
Besides...he wasn't exactly bad looking. Junkrat always had a thing for 

Roadhog pulled him out of his thoughts while he was staring at the poster.  
Tracer, the Overwatch agent they met up with, tilted her head curiously.  
“You good, love?” she asked, standing in front of the escalators that headed down into the underground.  
The Junker grunted quietly and shouldered his luggage, pulling his tacky baseball cap deeper into his face, while Hog adjusted his collar and scarf to hid his face as well.  
Tracer gave them a smile. “Good! We'll take the next train towards King's Row. We have a little make-shift base there.” she explained and headed downward. For a woman that wasn't bound to the concept of time she sure was in hurry.

“You were gawking.”  
Rat looked at Hog from the corner of his eyes.  
“Wot?”  
“You were gawking at the poster.”  
“And? I like his music. So what?”  
“You wanna go to the concert?”  
“No.”  
“No?”  
“No.”  
“Why not?”  
“'Cause we got better things ta do, remember?”

Tracer turned around, her woolen scarf swinging as she steped off the escalator backwards. “Oh, are you talking about the Lúcio concert?”  
“Nah. Just saw a poster.”  
The woman grinned a little. “That's funny. This is his last concert before he's going to join us actually.”  
Confused grunts were the Junker's replies.  
She spun around again, shrugging. “He is a good fighter and he has access to interesting technology. Winston asked him if he was interested and he gave us a notice. Maybe he'll give you two an autograph once you get to meet him.”  
She added a chuckle to the last remark.

Junkrat felt like he started to stare into the void.  
This is a joke, right?  
A celebrity, a fucking pop-star teenagers gawk and swoon over, will be part of a patchwork organization that, for lack of a better word, was a bunch of criminals, outlaws and vigilantes, including him and Roadie?  
He might...meet him?

“Why are you blushing, Rat?”  
“Wot, I'm not!”


	7. Boombox Week 2: Rejuvenescência

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 13th Feb – Music! Lúcio loves music – does Junkrat, too? Everything that has to do with music is game today!
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-11; Major content warning: Injury)

Rejuvenescência was always Jamison's favorite song, Lúcio thought to himself.  
Kind of ironic, since it was the one song he constantly played on field, especially around him.  
“It heals me and it lets me know ya 'round, Frogger. That's why I like it.” he told him once.  
He was pretty sure he tried to convince him that he didn't listen to it all the time or that it was his ring tone for Hog or that he hummed it absentmindedly during the preparation of his bombs.  
It flattered Lúcio.

If only he would have been there. If only he could have played in there instead of now.

Jamison looked horrible.  
His face was black and blue, the neck brace holding up his limb head, his one good arm in a cast. He was asleep, but he looked like he was just about to slip away.  
When Lúcio heard what happened, he immediately ran off to grab a boombox.

Doctor Ziegler was with him when it happened. “Things blow up left and right. I think he tried to defuse something. Thankfully he wasn't too close to the detonation. He is still weak though. If he makes it through the night, he should be fine...”  
He will make it through the night.  
Lúcio would make sure he did.

He has been sitting next to him all night, his head resting against Junkrat as he leaned down to nap. The boombox was propped up next to them, playing Rejuvenescência on repeat.

Jamison liked this song. Lúcio knew it.  
It was favorite song.  
Lúcio forgot that it lacked the healing qualities without his gear, but he was too busy being worried.

He was sure Jamie would make it through the night.  
He was tough as nails after all.  
He had to make.  
He had to.

Please...

 

The next morning Lúcio woke up to a gentle stroke over his head.  
He smiled, as he realized the fingers were made of metal.

“Ya mind switchin' channels, mate?”


	8. Boombox Week 3: Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 14th Feb – Valentine's Day! You know the drill: Celebrate the day of love with the Boombox boys!
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-13; No Major content warnings.)

Crowds have never been something Junkrat was particularly found of. But anything to please his boy-friend.  
He didn't know why exactly Lúcio was giving this little private concert.  
“Teasing my new album.” was his excuse. Couldn't he have just posted it on the internet? Like he usually did?  
Pulling the hood of his sweater deeper into his face, Junkrat was sitting at the bar, in the far back of the tiny club in Ilios. The somewhat five-hundred people were dancing and partying, all to Lúcios music.  
He looked like he was enjoying himself. Dreads waving through the air as he moved his head to the beat. The neon-blue hair-dye he got before Christmas was almost washed out, but the color still contrasted with the black light of the dance floor.  
Junkrat smiled. On stage is where Lúcio seemed to feel the most comfortable. Yes, he was a talented medic, but at heart he will always be an entertainer.

There was just one thing off about the show.  
Junkrat would never admit it, but he knew Lúcio library of songs up and down.  
And yet he had to hear one new song.  
What was the little frog boy plotting?

Finally there was a shift. The spotlight behind Lúcio was switching colors. It wasn't his usual green or yellow theme he went with, though.  
It was orange.  
A deep bass sound started to echo through the place. The crowd started to cheer and even Junkrat started to get excited.  
This was new. This is definitely new. About time.

This new song was different from what Lúcio usually did. Junkrat was used to swaying tunes, that moved around his head when he tried to visualize them.  
He liked to imagine Lúcios songs as dancing shapes in front of his closed eyes. Usually they were like tidal waves, slowly in- and decreasing in speed and intensity. Relaxing, yet powerful and impressive.  
This song however. It was strange.  
It was loud.  
Sudden.  
Bright and burning.  
There was still an odd relaxing sense to the rhythm, but the bass and the harmony was fueled with adrenaline and energy.  
Lúcio threw himself into the song, too. His head was moving to the beat, the orange light seemingly reflecting from his dark skin. His bright eyes somehow found their way through the crowd right to Jamie.

Goosebumps started to spread over Junkrats arms.  
This song. It felt like an explosion.

The song ended as sudden as it started and Jamie was surprised to find himself on his foot and peg. Did he start dancing without noticing?  
A quick glance to the stage. Lúcio, obviously exhausted, made a quick motion with his hand.  
Jamie understood.

Backstage in the dressing room, Lúcio dropped onto the used coach the club provided him with. He rubbed his face dry from sweat with a towel and grabbed for his water bottle, as he heard a knock against the door.  
Junkrat poked his head in. He seemed to have a hard time, because the guard in front of the door was eying him angrily.  
Lúcio chuckled. “Let him in, Mick.”  
A triumphant grin was thrown at the guard, before Jamie walked into the small dressing room.  
“Hey.” Lúcio sat up from the coach and got up onto his feet to hug the Junker.  
Jamie didn't back out. “Nice show so far, Frogger. Although I didn't expect ya ta play so much ol' stuff!”  
Lúcio looked up and gently took Jamie's hand off of his dreads. He'll never learn to ask first, then touch. “I told you it's just to tease new things to come...did you like the new song at least?”  
“Fuckin' loved it!” Junkrat grinned and sank into the couch, his hood falling off from the momentum.  
Lúcio crossed his arms and chuckled. “Really?”  
“Yeah! It's weird though. Not as relaxed or laid back as ya usual stuff. It's more exciting. Kinda reminds me of chemical explosions. Those are the best!”  
Lúcio nodded. “I know.”  
“Ya gotta tell me the name, once we hit the road home again. I'd call it...Gasoline! Oh, no-no-no, wait, wait, how 'bout...eh...Detonation! Or how about -”  
“Jamison.”  
Junkrat made a confused noise.  
“Wot? Wot did I do?”  
“Nothing.” Lúcio chuckled and placed himself next to him.  
“It's just the name of the song.”  
“Wait, wot are ya talkin' 'bout?”  
The DJ reached for the other man's cheek, pinching as little flesh as there was. “You are one bright spark, aren't you?”  
He leaned his head against Jamie's shoulder.

“It's the song's name. Jamison.”

Junkrat felt his cheeks heat up.  
It was in that moment, that he realized what day it was.

“Fuck. I forgot me gift.”


	9. Boombox Week 4: Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 15th Feb – Role Reversal! Junker Lúcio? DJ Junkrat? Make the boys switch places and see what happens...
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-14; No Major content warnings.)

Jamison only heard stories about Junkers. Most of them sounded like fairytales to him. A lot of people seem to consist of people from the Australian Outback to be nothing but ruthless murderers and shameless thieves.  
However he wasn't too sure if Poison Dart was one of those. He sure was ruthless though.

Poison Dart was a surprisingly small man, his bodyguard towering him menacingly. The pig mask wasn't helping to make the guy look any friendlier either, but to Jamison, it had a certain charm. He liked the leather. It reminded him of those metal bands back in the first half of the century that wore masks to their performances.

Poison never wore a mask himself. Only shielding visor glasses made of plastic to protect his eyes when he was riding along the walls on his make-shift skates. That and his hard-light-gun were pretty much his whole arsenal when they were on duty, yet he managed to pull out a lot of tricks with little equipment. Explosives, bombs, traps – all of these he was able to place with his trusty little weapon. He was experimental, liked to tinker. Most of his stuff was made out of scrap he just found lying around and every week he'd come around the corner with a new idea for a new toy.  
Jamison liked that about him. As someone with a liking towards experimenting with new tech, the musician admired the Junker's creativity. He didn't really understand why he'd find his E-guitar so interesting, since it's not light-based, but sound-based, but then again, Poison was hard to decipher at times. He was moody, sometimes jumpy, sometimes introverted and quiet. But he was always loud. He always yelled across the field to others, ranted at the enemies, laughed from the top of his lung and then complain how hoarse he was by the end of the day.

And Jamison loved it.  
He loved loud things. Music was his life after all, an anchor he hang himself onto to continue seeing hope for the future. He loves sounds and noise and harmonies. And to him, everything that Poison did, as weird and chaotic as it might seem at first, it always had a rhythm or some kind of melody to it.  
That's why he liked to be around him. Listen to him talk, watch him work. It was mesmerizing, inspiring almost. And he wasn't exactly unattractive either. Sure, he was almost always covered in oil and grease, stank of sweat and gasoline and changed his top and shorts maybe once a week, but he was far from being ugly.  
Jamie often caught himself just staring at the young man, who's muscular arms and back made him look oddly sturdy for his height. His hair was a wild mess of dark dreads in a lumpy bun, in which he stuck tools, pencils and sometimes even batteries or drinking straws. His skin was dark, yet the scars across back, arms and chest were always clearly visible and often there was dirt stuck in his messy goatee. Like Jamison he was missing two limbs – both of his legs, which made the fact that he made his own prosthesis to skate on even more fascinating. But his most handsome feature was his face. While his expressions were seemingly always on edge, always tense and manic, they showed a lot of passion and energy. The way his eyes started to gleam when he got a new idea or his full lips curled up into a cheeky grin when he made a dumb joke and Roadhog scolded him for it.

How can he not fall for him?

It was a risk to start a relationship with him, sure. His manager almost skinned him when they found out about it. But then again Jamison was already rather unpopular in the press. They rarely talked about his music and more about his past, how he started the first riots against Vishkar – which he didn't. The communities who started the riots just liked to use his music during their marches. And sadly to most people the voice of a white guy is louder than that of a million black people. Besides a rock star to starts a social movement was probably a good story to sell and make a book out of.  
He wished he was never dragged into this, never became the focus of a conflict that didn't even effect him. Even now, with his musical carrier over and his medical education slowly taking off, he couldn't find peace. He grew up well cared and privileged, while the people who marched had to fight for their lives. Maybe it was just fair that he lost his arm and leg that one time he decided to take part in the movement. It backfired, of course. Molotovs burn long and hot, down to the bone.  
Since that day, he stayed hidden. Some people accused him of leaving his supporters alone and hanging. But those were the same people who made him the movement's leader, while the true leaders, the people actually effected by Vishkar's crimes, never get heard.

Poison Dart knew the story, too. He was pretty sure he had family in Brazil, but he wasn't too sure. He hated Vishkar by default. They were a big business, so they were nasty guys in his book. Another personality trait Jamison could relate to.  
Sometimes they would just lay in Jamison's room on his couch, just listen to music, while they talk about their ideas. How Poison planned to update his gun, reduce the momentum, increase the hard-light charge, while Jamison told him of that new album he found from an old band or how he and Doctor Ziegler started developing a new mod for his healing instruments.  
When the banter died down, Poison Dart would sit up and lean over, placing his chin on the blonde man's chest.  
“Ya know what, Jamie-Boy?”  
“Know what?”  
“Ya not as bad as I thought ya were when we first met.”  
“Oh? How did you thought I would be like?”  
“Bratty. Stick up ya butt, ya know? Bein' famous and all.”  
Jamison snorted. “But I'm not, right? Or...did I - ?”  
“Nah, ya fine.” the Junker chuckled and nuzzled his head against Jamison's thin chest.  
Slowly the musician put his arms around the small body and held him close.

“Hey, Poison? Can I ask you something?”  
Poison inched his head up a bit.  
“What's your name?”  
Confused obsidian eyes met nervous amber ones.  
“Dude, ya know me name? It's Poison dart! Ya know, 'cause I like frogs and shit?”  
“No, I mean, like...not your Junker name? Roadhog isn't Hog's real name either, right?”

Poison made a face that was hard to read. Was it annoyance? Did Jamison go too far? He felt his prosthetic arm twitch around Poison's hips. He thought it would be okay to ask. With the two of them...dating and all.  
Were they dating? Sometimes he wasn't too sure about it. They hang out a lot, sometimes they had make-outs, once he almost went down on him...maybe it was more of an affair for him? A friendship with benefits? He wouldn't blame him. People have their needs after all.  
It would hurt, but he would take it.  
He can't force him to trust him.

“Ya really wanna know?”  
Jamison nodded and suddenly felt like a shy school girl. Awkward.  
Poison's lips twitched and...was that a blush under the soot in his face?  
“Promise ya won't laugh.”  
“I won't.”  
The Junker bit down on his lower lip and looked to the side.  
“It's...Lúcio.”  
Jamison tilted his head. “Lúcio?”  
“Yeah...ya happy now?”  
The Blonde chuckled. “Why would I laugh at such a pretty name?”  
“Wow, that was gay, mate.”  
“As if you aren't.”  
“Fair point.”  
Lúcio leaned his head back onto Jamison's chest and sighed, his body starting to relax again. Jamie closed his eyes and his breath started to slow down. This was just too cozy.

“If ya tell anyone, I'll kill ya.”  
“You won't.”  
“I will.”  
“Nope.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Na-ah.”  
“Screw you.”  
“That can be arranged...”


	10. Boombox Week 5: Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 16th Feb - Care! If it's taking a bath together, fixing each other's prosthesis or just making food, show the boys taking care of themselves and each other!
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-15; No Major content warnings.)

The past week was emotionally tiring. For both of them.  
It was the first time since they started dating that they have been on separate missions. Lúcio would stay back in Gibraltar, Junkrat would be sent to Eichenwalde.  
He hated it.  
But he knew exactly what to do against that.

The screen of the tablet was flickering, the image only slowly stabilizing itself.  
“Winston, why are you calling me? My room's right down the hallway!” Lúcio muttered, still struggling to get out of his bed. He was about to go to sleep when the communicator went off.  
But who was calling wasn't even nearly as hairy as Winston.  
“Oi, love!” Junkrat grinned, showing all of his uneven teeth in a grin. It seemed like he was also in a bed, holding the tablet over his head.  
Lúcio blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of the screen.  
“J...Jamie...how did you get - “  
“Nicked it from the monkey.”  
Lúcio groaned. Of course.  
“Why did you do that?”  
“Havn't gotten around ta get me new phone, mate. Besides I'll give it back ta him when we're back home.”  
Lúcio sat up under the sheets, proping the device up against his knees. He should have known Jamie would want to at least call, but in the middle of the night? But then again, it's probably a bit earlier in Germany right now and Lúcio wasn't too sure if Junkrat was aware of the subtle difference in timezones.

“Fine...Anyway. How was your day?”  
Jamie grinned a bit wider. He has been waiting all day to verbally blow off some steam. “Eichenwalde sucks, mate!” he proclaimed, leaning over the little tablet and seemingly pulling a blanket over his head. “Whole place is just a big scrap hole. One that I'm not even allowed ta blow up!”  
“It's an important historical sight, Jamie. You can't just blow that up.” Lúcio replied, as he started to tie up his hair, his sleepiness slowly dwindling.  
“Historical sight my ass. There's Omnic scrap all over the place.”  
“Some consider those graves, Jamie.”  
“Some. I ain't some.”  
“Please don't tell me you tried to blow one of those up.”  
“...course not. I ain't a dick. 'Sides the doc would have probably beat me up for it.”

Lúcio smiled a little. It was nice to see that Jamie began to respect others feelings as well.

“What's that grin about?”  
Lúcio looked confused at his boy-friend, ripped from his thoughts, but giggled as a reply.  
“Oh. Oh, I just...I'm just very proud of you, man.”  
“Proud?”  
“Yeah...you seem to have developed so much since we met. You are much more considerate than you used to be. And much healthier.”  
The Junker huffed quietly.  
“Wouldn't be there without ya. Want ya ta be proud of ya failure of a boy-friend after all.”  
“You are not a failure, Jamison.”  
“Not as much as I used ta be.”

Lúcio chuckled.  
“Idiot.”  
“But I'm your idiot!”  
“Yes. And I wouldn't want any other.”


	11. Boombox Week 6: Break-Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 17th Feb – Gossip! “The rumors comes out: Does Lúcio is gay?” Being a VIP Lúcio's affair with a Junker is probably not being taken lightly by the media...
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-15; No Major content warnings.)

“HOGGIE!”

Fast grabby hands ripped the book out of Makos hands, which was not easy, considering their size and strength.  
The man of the size of a closet sighed long and deep, before tilting his head to the evil-doing, that was wasting his precious free time.  
“What is it, Hana?”

The young woman looked at him with big eyes filled of worry and a pale face as if she just saw a ghost.  
“Look at this!” she said, pressing her tablet against the junker's big build.  
Mako pulled his mask up, eying the screen with suspicion.

Hana seemed to have opened a news app. Mako recognized the logo. It was a gossip app. He looked at Hana from the corner of his eyes, scolding her a bit. He wouldn't have expected her to be the kind of woman to be interested in gossip.  
Then he started to scan over the article she pointed at.

“International Pop-Star Spotted With Omnic Love Bird!”

It was a pretty shabby photo that was prominently featured to the huge yellow headline. Mako was shocked that this kind of quality was still possible in these times. But what he could make out in the picture was probably the source of Hana's current state. Two silhouettes, a couple walking down the street hand in hand, a metallic hand holding a gloved one in the middle of the street.

“Looks like the DJ to me.” he muttered and handed the tablet back to her.  
“Yes, that's the point!” Hana replied, “Did you know about that?”  
“About what?”  
“That Jamie and Lúcio broke up!”  
The man with the pig mask grunted. “Broke up?”  
“Did you not read the headline, big guy!?” Hana asked, her voice going into a high pitch as she pointed at the picture. “Lúcio is dating an Omnic! Why didn't he tell me?”  
The woman spun around, fingers digging into her hair.  
“Lúcio tells me everything! I'm his best friend! And Jamie is, like, my second best friend! We are always talking about everything! Why didn't they tell me? I would have helped! They seemed so happy, Roadie! So cuddely and kitschy and lovey-dovey!”

“Might be because ya Omnic is Jamie.”  
“What?”

Roadhog took the tablet out of the woman's hand and pointed at the metallic arm on the photo.  
It was blurry and not easy to make out, but the limb was of a bright orange color.

“Oh.”


	12. Boombox Week 7: Blonde (Actor AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My contribution to the Boombox Shipping week on tumblr! Please visit ow-boombox.tumblr.com to see all contributions!  
> 18th Feb – Alternative Universe! Pick your favorite AU and run wild with it! Have fun!  
> (This is an Actor AU, in which Jamie is an independent actor and shares a flat with his roommate, the up-coming DJ Lúcio, in L.A.)
> 
> (Originally posted: 2017-02-15; No Major content warnings.)

The first thing that greeted Lúcio back home was a stench of ammonia.

It had been a busy day for him. He spent half of it inside the studio, recording samples for his new EP. Maybe he would get to actually put them together tomorrow. Not today anymore. Even though he loved making music, sometimes you got to take a break from making music. Especially if you want your ears to last and your sleep cycle to be regular.  
After he hung up his coat onto the wardrobe, he made a few steps ahead, looking around the big room that was the open-plan kitchen. No one sat on the small, black dining table. The couch with the second hand coffee table, cluttered by letters and a few DVDs, was also empty. However, the TV was running, just like the open laptop balancing on the armrest.  
Lúcio sighed quietly. He made a sharp turn and took a quick breather through the nose.

That smell. It's coming from the bathroom.  
He heard running water from the other side of the hallway.  
Without knocking, Lúcio opened the bathroom door. It could have only been his roommate after all.

And indeed, the tall man was standing in the small bathroom, his head bend into the shower cabin, the back making an uncomfortable looking curve while trying not to get wet anywhere below his neck. His one arm had disappeared to wash off something from his head, the other one ended in a scared stump.  
Lúcio tilted his head, trying to see what his roommate was doing, but the milky glass of the cabin made it hard to figure out.  
“Jamie?” he finally raised his voice and realized, how dry his throat was. He really needed something to drink.  
The tall guy finally realized he wasn't alone anymore and shut off the water.  
With a quick whip of his head he got rid off some excess water, before throwing it back into his neck and finally bending up again, stretching his back and arms into their full length. A crack came from them, accompanied with a relieved grunt from the roommate.  
“Oi, Lu! Didn't hear ya come in!” he chuckled and grabbed after the towel resting on the edge of the sink and started to rub over his head with it. “Thought I should wash out that gunk before ya get home. Hope ya don't mind that I ordered a pizza. I was too lazy to cook.”

Lúcio caught himself staring at him.  
Blonde.  
His roommate bleached his hair blonde. And it looked...horrible.

“Wot?” Jamie asked, his head curiously tilted to the side, drips of water falling onto his shoulder.  
“You look terrible.”  
That sounded harsher than it was supposed to, but it pretty much summed up all of Lúcio's current emotions.  
“Oi.” Jamie complained and rubbed over his hair again. “Fo' me first try on bleachin' me hair myself, I think I didn't do a bad job.”  
“If you wanted to turn your hair into hay, then yes.”  
Jamie made a face. “Harsh.”  
Lúcio shook his head and grabbed a hold of the towel to pull it off of the tall one's shoulders. “Did you put in conditioner?”  
“Con- Wot?”  
“Thought so.”  
He threw the towel over the rim of the small sink and opened the bathroom mirror shelf.  
“You need to put in conditioner, Jamie, or your hair will dry out.”  
“How can hair dry out? Hair is dry on its own, mate.”  
The DJ huffed and turned around. “Hey, who is constantly dying his hair, me or you?”  
“You do, but - “  
“Then who is the expert on hair care?”  
Jamie pouted. “You.”  
“And that means, I am...?”  
“Okay, okay, I get it, mate.” Jamie replied and took the bottle from the grinning man's hand. “What do I have ta do?”  
“Just get a good amount into your hair and wash it out again after five minutes.” Lúcio explained and sat down on the closed toilet seat. “Why did you do this anyway? I thought you liked your hair as it is?”  
“Sure.” the newly-made Blonde replied, “But the guys who asked me ta speak for that one role I told ya 'bout? The one with the peg-legged terrorist? Well, turns out they want a Blonde.”  
“So you just...do that at home in our bathroom?”  
“Why not? 's cheaper!”  
“I could have done that for you? Than it would have looked proper at least.”  
“I get it! I get it, mate! Stop beatin' the poor dead horse.”  
“Never!”  
They both started to chuckle.

As odd as it was at times, Lúcio enjoyed living with Jamison.  
He was happy he had ran into him at that open casting session once that his friend dragged him to two years ago. Back then Jamie was still living in Australia and only came for this one casting, used up all of his savings, too. And then he got the job, but had no place to stay.  
Their roommateship was more a matter of convenience at first, but it slowly developed into something much more.  
At least that's how Lúcio saw it.

“You know...on second thought, you really don't look too bad as a Blonde.”  
Jamie cackled a little. “Ya think? Well, ya know what they say? Blondes got more fun in life.”  
“As if you have anything but fun in life.”  
“Bah! I gonna wash the gunk out now.”  
The tall one went back on his knees and bent over the shower.  
Lúcio rested his elbow on the sink.

“Nice view, 'Blondie'.”  
“Shut up.”


	13. Food Truck AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Jya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes to be added later due to mobile restriction

"Are you going home, Lúcio?"

He grabbed after his leather jacket, just tossing it over his shoulder, when his co-worker hollered at him. Lúcio shouldered his bag, grinning at Hana from the staff room.   
"In a bit. I need to grab something for dinner first though."  
Hana's eyebrows disappeared under her bangs as she returned that grin. "Well, now you are just making excuses. Are you sure you like going there because of the food?"  
"Ah, it has multiple benefits." he chuckled before giving Hana a wave. "Tell Rein I said hi!"  
"Will do! Don't eat too much!"

Exhausted Lúcio made his way along the avenue, stretching his muscles. He loved working at this little second hand shop, more than he wanted to admit to. Juggling this with university however took a toll on him. Sometimes he didn't even have enough time to make food. Thank God for the fast food industry. How he hasn't risen like yeast dough is beyond him, considering his diet is anything but healthy as of now. But thankfully he didn't much care for that. What he did care about though, was a certain someone flipping burgers right now...

There was this food truck touring this area. Every Thursday to Saturday it would park right at the corner of Mick Avenue and Peaches' Run, not far from Lúcio's apartment building and even closer to a bus station that led straight to the campus. Probably a calculated move. Most of the truck's customer base were starving students. The vehicle itself looked like it was stuck in the last decade, the frame was big and angular and the paint job downright tacky with red and orange flames plastered over everything. The name of the truck, "Junk Food", was sprayed on by hand in silver as well as the promise of "Burgers, Fries, Aussie BBQ" and a grinning smiley. No one would have ever guessed that this tacky thing was the best spot to get burgers in town. And yet, even past the rush hour, people were there, ordering Shrimp from the Barbie, handcut fries with spicy ketchup and a wild array of burgers and fried snacks.

Lúcio already knew what he wanted, still he glanced over the menu while waiting for the cook in the truck to wrap up his other customer. He didn't want to stare at him like he did the other day. Even though the guy was far from attractive there was something incredibly handsome about that guy. He was tall and thin, not really the kind of guy who one would expect to be a huge burger fan. His straw-like blond hair was tugged away behind a bandana with the same ridiculous flame pattern as the truck and his right arm ended in an bright orange plastic prosthetic.

The lady customer picked up her order - the special fries with extra secret sauce - which put Lúcio up to the counter. The cook's face lit up the moment he saw him.  
"Oi, look who it is! How ya doin', mate?"  
Lúcio chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed. At this point he came along every day the truck was set up on his way home. That the blond recognized him as a regular flustered him a little.  
"What's it gonna be taday fo' ya, hm? At this rate ya gonna be through me whole menu 'til Halloween."  
Lúcio snorted. "What! Everything you make is good, don't blame me!"  
"Aww, shucks, mate, ya makin' me blush!" And he actually did, a little bit color blossomed on his cheeks. Lúcio tried his hardest not to blush himself. He looked adorable like that, with this gentle blush peppered between a wild array of freckles.  
Tearing his eyes off of the cook to not make this more awkward than it needs to be, Lúcio fake-glanced over the menu. "Uh, let's go classic. A Junk Burger with fries and, uh, a lime slushie?"  
"Ya wish is my command!" the blond chuckled and turned away to his grill in the back of the truck. "Make 'em bleed and cry?"  
What sounded like an odd question was actually slang Lúcio had picked up from the cook. "Make 'em bleed" meant a medium rare sear on the burger so it would still bleed a little, and "Make 'em cry" was an extra order of onions. Lúcio shook his head. "Nah, not today."  
"Awwh, fine. Anythin' else I can get ya, mate?"

Lúcio swallowed. He did have an idea. But that might come off as rude. Also, what if the cook wasn't...  
"Uhm...how...about...your number?"  
Oh God. Lúcio hid his face in his palm. That was terrible. No one would ever react to that with a straight face. He can't just ask random burger cooks to give him their number. He wasn't even replying. That's how bad this was...

Lúcio peaked through his fingers and saw his order being assembled. A huge burger with lettuce and cucumbers, oozing with special sauce, a large portion of fries with a plastic pack of spicy ketchup and his light green lime slushie...with a line of numbers written on the cup with a black marker and the grinning smiley next to the name "Jamie".  
Lúcio looked up with hot ears, while the cook just grinned at him. "Thought ya would never ask. Ya free on Sunday?"


	14. Teeny Starlet AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally based off of a scene from Sailor Moon. Don't ask.

Late, late, late, he was late!  
Why does it always hit him? The new year had barely started and already he might end up being in the weeds with Mako. The blond teenager dashed down the alley, one foot limbing a little behind as he tried to get to the bus stop in time.

Of course he ran into someone. Why would he not ran into someone and stumble? He groaned frustrated after he hit the ground. His wrist hurt and the arm prosthetic got a few more scratches but that was it, thankfully. With another grunt he turned around and saw a boy roughly his age, but half a head smaller. Most of his dark skinned face was hidden behind a pair of reflecting sunglasses. The boy seemed to almost innocently stare at him with his hands in his pockets, as if the bump into him barely scrapped him.  
"Yo, you ok?" the boy asked with a tilt of his head.  
The blond built himself back up, still with a sour face. "Do I look okay to ya, mate! Look at me arm! Scratched up like an old pan!"  
The boy snorted. "Oh, come on, man, it's not that bad."  
"Mate, ya see me leg? I ain't got the money fo' replacin' these if they break."  
"Awh, I would pay if you couldn't." The boy tilted his head, eyes hidden behind the shades. "I'm liking your reaction."  
The blond groaned as he collected his little keychain mascot that dropped off of shoulder bag. "What, not used ta people shoutin' at ya?"  
"Normally people screech when they see me. Especially the girls."  
"Well, guess what, I ain't a girl and I surely won't screech at a tosser like ya sad ass!"  
And with that he ran off, leaving the perplexed boy behind who was then called over to a limousine...

The gate of the building was already open and students were pooling in on mas. Amongst them was a big boy, almost as tall as wide, bandana around his neck and his white bleached hair up in a bun. He kept glancing on his phone with low groans as he inched into the classroom. As soon as he sat on his usual spot, the window side table group in the far back of the room, the person he was waiting for stumbled in. Exhausted the blond boy dropped onto a chair next to his friend. "About time, Jamie. You wanted to be here ten minutes ago."  
"Forgot the time while showerin' and then ran inta a bloke, sorry mate...seriously, why are we here this early? It's barely seven forty."  
The chunky boy shrugged. "Hana wanted us to come early. Beats me why."  
Hana? Hana "Glued to a screen til four in the morning to grind sheep wool" Song? Why would she want to be early?  
And as if summoned, the young girl poked her head in, glancing around until she spotted the boys. She waved them over, but the only reply Jamie and Mako had were confused looks.  
Hana came over to them, groaning. "Guys, I told you to wait in the hall! We might not be able to catch a glimpse of him!"  
"The bloomin' hell are ya on 'bout, Hana?"  
"Didn't you guys hear?" Hana asked with her hands flat on the table. Outside the door they could hear a crowd move, as if a whole wave of students just came along the hallway.  
"Lúcio Correia dos Santos will go on our school from now on!"

"What? That popstar?"  
And as if to answer his question the classroom door opened and noise rang in the blond's ears. Girls and boys outside on the hallway were calling and crowding around a single person breaking from them. The boy sighed almost relieved when he closed the door behind him. The few other students in the class already stared and whispered as the boy made his way down to pick a spot to sit at.  
He stopped at the table group, causing a nervously shaking Hana to audibly gasp.  
A grin curled up on his features when the boy noticed Jamie's expressions, going from a confused frown to surprise.  
"Hey Blondie. Looks like we're at the same school, hm?"  
A blush bloomed on Jamie's cheeks as he angrily stared at him.  
"Ya....ya Lúcio?" he asked and still couldn't believe it.  
Lúcio nodded and removed his shades, showing off big, brown eyes. "Yupp, and sooner or later you are probably going to be my boyfriend. That's how it goes with people you ran into before the new semester begins, right?"  
"Fuck off, I ain't gay!" Jamie returned, probably a bit too rough.  
Hana suddenly jumped up and in front of Lúcio. "Heeey! I'm Hana Song, the class president! Big fan, big fan, I can show you around the class!" Before he could answer, Lúcio was then dragged away by the taller girl.  
Mako sighed. "Dunno if she did that to defuse the moment or to get a chance to impress him..."   
He threw a look at Jamie, who stared with crossed arms out of the window. "I'm sure he was kidding, mate."  
"Whatever. Fuckin' dipstick." The blond muttered with still bright cheeks.

This promised to become a terrible year...


	15. Scarecrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stardew Valley AU, inspired by @junkenstein_sd on twitter.

The farmer hummed quietly to himself as he reached up. The scarecrow would need just one more adjustment, then it should be done.  
Proud of his work Jamison stepped away from the lanky and limb man stuffed with hay, that hang lazy off of his pole. Glancing over his craftsmanship, the farmer nodded with a smile. Yes, that will do. Now no bird would dare coming close to the fields.  
Jamison was still new to the whole farm business. Picking up the touch of his grandfather and continuing the Junkenstein farm wasn't exactly how he had pictured his life to continue after university. But there he was: Books made room for dirt and seeds, chemistry sets pushed aside for heavy tools and instead of finding ways to build another robot he was now trying to find better ways to make his fields bigger and more fertile.  
It was frankly overwhelming for the former shut-in. He wasn't exactly strong nor good with people, so coming to Stardew Valley, meeting all those nice yet strange people and trying to rebuild the destroyed farm was a large task. Thankfully he didn't have to face it on his own...

"Hey, Stein!"  
Jamison turned his head, white hair swaying with the breeze, as he saw his farm hand walk through the field. Lúcio wasn't exactly what you would expect from a farm hand. He was small and lean, but he made up his size with enthusiasm and lots of energy. Where he got that from, because Jamison often fell flat on his ass after an hour of plowing the field with his hoe.  
With an axe swung over his shoulder, Lúcio climbed over the little fence, whistling impressed.  
"That scarecrow's looking good, Doc!"  
The nickname made Jamison blush. Sure, he was indeed a doctor - of engineering in fact, even though he also studied biology - but he wasn't never really able to put it to good use after university. Job market didn't really offer many places for him to go. Maybe going to the farm and hiring Lúcio as a helper wasn't the worst life choice he had made after all...  
"Thanks. Took me long enough to hang him up." He tried hard to swallow that German accent. He felt it made him sound awkward.  
With a grin Lúcio poked the scarecrow into its belly. "I like the mask. Looks real spooky. I wouldn't wanna mess with him, if I was a bird." He added a laugh and Jamison's heart began to race.  
"You got a name for him?"  
"N-not yet." Jamison hummed, cleaning his glasses. "I'll c-come up with one in time."  
"You better. That bad boy deserves a name." Lúcio chuckled and leaned the axe against the fence. "I cleared up a path at the southern part of the fields. Made room so we got a short cut down to the lake and to Marnie's. You done with your work?"  
Jamison nodded and pointed with his thumb to his empty watering can. "Looks like we might have parsnips by the end of the week. The other field started sprouting already."  
The man with the dreads grew a bigger smile before patting the tall doctor's shoulder. "See? I told you, you got it in you to become a decent farmer!" He glanced around the ground. "Have you seen the scythe somewhere? South's full of weeds and grass."  
Jamison waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. "Ah, scythe's rubbish! I'll clean it up to make sure the roots don't stay in the ground and the weed grows back."  
Lúcio crossed his arms and made an impressed noise, as he watched the doctor pick up the axe again as well as a shovel. "You're turning to a real hayseed , Stein."  
Jamison chuckled as he climbed the fence. "Maybe. Can, uh...can you do me a favor and go to town to grab some food?"  
"No problem!" Lúcio replied and winked before hopping the fence towards the other direction. "See you later!"

Jamison watched as Lúcio ran off the farm, feeling heat pool into his face and his heart hammer against his chest. He knew he was far from being a hayseed, as Lúcio put it, but being praised like that by him sent the fallen doctor into a state of bliss. Humming a song he made his way towards the south end of the farm, realizing how hopelessly in love he was yet again.  
And that 'Hayseed' would be an amazing name for a scarecrow.


End file.
